Harvest
by 0renginal
Summary: Jack wants to bring winter to Burgess early, but is stopped by the spirit of Autumn, Harvest Falls. They strike a deal: if Harvest can convince Jack that Autumn can be fun, then Harvest can have two months out of the year dedicated to fall with no whining from Jack. If he can't, Jack can start winter whenever he pleases. Of course things can never be that easy.
1. Winter After Fall

**Author's Note: **This fic contains a character made by me who may or may not get in a relationship with the main character. If anyone has any tips or advice, or corrections on information, I'd be more than happy to correct it. Also: is it weird that I wrote this listening to Taylor Swift and dubstep?

**Warnings: **OC (Non-Canon Character); possible yaoi; Movie-verse; Pre-Movie and During; Cursing; Spoilers for the movie.

**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing you recognize. Harvest Falls, however, is of my own creation. Please don't steal my work!

"_Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower."_

~Albert Camus

.:Autumn:.

A happy, crooked grin danced over his lips as Jack Frost finally came home. Home for him was Burgess, and the town had never looked more in need of a snow day, brought on by yours truly. It was finally time for summer to end, for blankets of fluffy snow and snowball fights to replace the sun and water pistol fights. The first place on his list was the pond, the place where his memory began, but as he touched down he felt prickles on the back of his neck. He felt like he was being watched. Nobody had seen him in over 300 years, however, so he was quick to brush it off and return to lowering the temperature and freezing the pond.

Normally, Jack wouldn't be here so early; it was only the last day of September and usually the next two months would be dedicated to the cooling off from summer and the drying up of the leaves. Autumn was a slow process, far too slow for Jack's tastes since three hundred years had done little for his attention span and patience. Heck, school started with autumn, so no children liked the arrival of the season. Spring brought flowers and bunnies, summer brought water fun and fishing, winter brought snow and awesomeness, and fall brought crunchy leaves. Very cool. Not.

So, Jack was here to skip the lull between seasons and let the kids have some fun. It was too early for more than an inch or two of snow, but any little reprieve would be much appreciated. The eyes he felt on him didn't go away, however, and he was starting to get paranoid. What if it was the Easter Bunny, come to reap revenge from that blizzard on Easter Sunday a couple decades ago? Jack made sure that he could shoot off into the sky in that case. That bunny just couldn't take a joke; besides, the kids certainly loved the snow.

Jack was startled when a male voice that didn't have an Australian accent burst from the trees above him. "'Ey," the voice called. "What're you doin'? It ain't time fer win'er yet!" Jack looked up and around to find where the southern drawl came from but he didn't have to look all that hard. Perched in the only tree with red and orange autumn leaves was a boy who looked about as old as Jack with fiery autumn hair, reddish-brown eyes squinting at him like he had done the world a wrong. Jack grinned anyway, thrilled that someone could see him. He doubted that his fellow teen was human though; he didn't seem all that surprised that Jack could make ice with a stick.

"I'm skipping seasons," Jack explained, stopping what he was doing and floating up to see eye to eye with the mystery boy. "Fall doesn't do anything anyway." From the guy's reaction immediately following that, one would think Jack had just said something incredibly offensive to the guy's mother. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he pitched forward like he'd lost his balance. He caught himself, but kept his shocked look until Jack waved his hand in front of his face. Then his eyes went back to staring at him narrowly. He almost felt like he was being studied, so he stayed still and stared back instead of squirming like he wanted to. Hours seemed to pass before they relaxed, the teen leaning back on his feet and face melting into a slightly bored look. Jack was just about to fly back down when the guy spoke.

"You don' know, do you?" Those eyes were studying him again, behind that bored face, and Jack narrowed his eyes in retaliation.

"Don't know what? What's your accent, anyway? Who are you?" Honestly, he should have asked that first, but Jack had been a little excited because he was being seen. Oh well, he was asking now. The other guy stood up suddenly, making Jack jerk back, and stuck out his hand for a shake.

"Name's Harvest Falls. I'm from Oklahoma, and I'm the Autumn Spirit. Who're you?" Oh, so that's why Harvest had looked so insulted; Jack had insulted his season! Oops. Jack shook his hand with a sheepy grin, silently saying sorry.

"Name's Jack Frost," Jack introduced himself the same way that Harvest did. Harvest nodded politely.

"Nice to meet you, Frost," he said letting go of Jack's hand. "An' you don' know anything 'bout what fall is." Jack stared at Harvest, bewildered. That was just this side of random.

"What else is there to fall? It's just everything getting cooler and the leaves falling off; nothing I can't do." Jack thought that maybe he would get a reaction out of Harvest, but instead the teen stared at him with that boredly calculating look. Did this guy feel anything besides shock and anger and that?

"Oh there's a lot more to autumn than that. Haven't you jumped in a good stack o' leaves? Carved a pumpkin and roast the seeds? Chased a flock o' turkeys and catch the best?" Harvest listed. Jack only stared at him like he was crazy. Eating pumpkin seeds? Chasing turkeys? Just what was this guy on?

"No," Jack said slowly. "I just head to Siberia or Antarctica when it's not winter. I decided to come home early and have fun." Jack stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets, still floating in the air. He half wanted to land somewhere, but the only place near was the branch and it hardly had enough room for the both of them. Harvest cocked a thick maroon eyebrow.

"And you think autumn ain't fun?" Jack had to narrow his eyes at the other spirit when he said that. There was an undertone, a challenge in that question, and they both knew it very well.

"Nope," Jack said, popping the 'p'. Harvest tossed his head back like a proud horse, his eyes flashing in challenge.

"How about this," he began. "I bet I can convince you that fall can be fun. If I win, you have to give me at least two months of fall before winter sets in." Harvest stuck his hand out. He didn't say anything about if he would lose, which said a lot for his confidence. It also left the deal open to whatever Jack wanted. He could get rid of fall altogether in Burgess if he wanted. Jack thought only for a moment before grinning again and shaking the other spirit's hand.

"If you don't convince me," Jack said, "then I get to skip autumn in Burgess whenever I want." Harvest squeezed his hand in warning, but nodded anyway.

"Deal." They let go, and Jack stuck his hand back in his pocket. Harvest looped his thumbs through his jean's belt loops and offered a toothy smirk. "I've got 'til the end of November to change yer mind."

.:Autumn:.


	2. Running of the Leaves

**Author's Note: **Oh look, two in one day. Aren't I fancy? By the way, I probably won't be updating consistently or at a set schedule… I have from here to chapter six planned out, but not written. I'll upload as fast as possible until 10,000 words, but then mellow out; I don't know about other readers, but I typically wait til fics get to 10,000 words before reading the fic. Harvest's accent is based off mine; to 'to's sound like 'tuh's and the 'a's sound like 'uh's. Surely you all know what an American Southern drawl sounds like? Haha. Anyway, read on.

**Warnings: **OC (Non-Canon Character); Maybe slash M/M, but I dunno yet; Not a lick of the books; might be some misinformation; Pre-Movie and During; Cursing; Spoilers for the movie; I'll add more as the story goes on.

**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing you recognize. Harvest Falls, however, is of my own creation, and it was freaking hard to think up an OC that wasn't already "taken" or Gary Stu. Please don't steal my work!

"_Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree."_

_- _Emily Bronte

.:Autumn:.

Harvest was leading Jack somewhere later that day. When Jack asked where they were going, Harvest only smirked and said "You'll see." While it was an emotion other than anger or shock, that smug 'I know something you don't know' smirk was starting to get on Jack's nerves. So, since Harvest was being so secretive about it, Jack would 'accidently' knock his staff against passing trees, leaving firm swirls of frost on the bark. Jack thought that it would at least annoy him, but it only made the other teen smirk more. Honestly, could nothing faze this guy?

Jack studied his fellow spirit in the mean time. Harvest was wearing a leather jacket over a plain, light grey zip-up hoodie and some fitted, scraped up jeans, and on his feet were some pretty beat up dull red sneakers. His gloved hands were shoved in his pockets with his thumbs poked through the belt loops, almost like earlier. He has wearing a black backpack that seemed pretty full; with what, Jack could only guess, but he assumed it was clothes. There were some belt straps that seemed sloppily sewn on, and the straps held a skateboard and an oddly shaped branch securely to the pack. Jack thought that the branch looked suspiciously like a scythe, but it was all wood and just looked like a branch with another branch shooting off of it. Jack couldn't help but notice that Harvest was walking with a certain kind of surety, a confidence of someone who knew how to take care of themselves and handle things. Jack kind of wanted to know what he could do to earn that walk.

Just when Jack was getting bored enough to fly off somewhere, they came to the edge of the forest. It was on the outskirts of Burgess, where no buildings were, and they were facing away from the falling sun. Harvest turned and smirked toothily at Jack, who gave him a questioning look. "So here's what's gonna happen," the Autumn spirit started. "We're gonna have a race." Jack nodded, though still slightly confused.

"Okay," Jack agreed audibly. "But what has a race got to do with fall being fun?" Harvest's smirk widened into a grin, as if that was the best thing that Jack could have said. Silently, the spirit took off one of his gloves. The hand was rough-looking but pale. Harvest touched the tips to the closest tree, and Jack watched in awe as tendrils of red-brown power, much like the lines of wintery power that arched across his staff at his touch, danced up the tree. As the little lines split and flowed through the branches, each touched a leaf, and each touched leaf faded, from stem to tip, to either a royal red, brilliant gold, or fiery orange. When the last leaf was painted, Harvest took his hand off the trunk and the energy slowly faded, leaving an autumn tree that looked like it had been set aflame with a torch. "Wow," Jack breathed.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Harvest give a wry grin. "Trees don' die come fall," Harvest said, almost sounding like a teacher. "They jus' go to sleep, like bears or frogs do. The leaves fall jus' like how our own skin or hair or nails grow an' fall out, in time, to leave room for new leaves to grow when spring rolls aroun', an' to provide mulch for new grasses an' plants to grow," he paused, looking at Jack to see if he was paying attention, which he was. "My job at the beginning of fall is to race through town, from tree to tree, turning all o' the leaves from green to Autumn fire."

"So you have to touch every single tree?" Jack asked. "That must be tiring." Harvest shook his head.

"I don' have to touch every single tree," he said. "With only a small bit o' my power I can turn individual trees, but I've gotten so good over the years that when I touch one tree, several surrounding trees turn as well. It definitely saves a bit o' time." Jack wanted to ask just how old the spirit was, but Harvest kept talking. "The race, then, is to see which one of us can get to the other side of town firs' while touching the most amount o' trees. You can mark your trees by a bit o' ice or an ice sickle, whatever you want as long as you're not too obvious. Mine will be, obviously, turned red." Harvest smirked at him finally. "You up for it?"

Like Jack could ignore a challenge like that. "You're on," he grinned back. Harvest shrugged off his backpack and rolled his shoulders, spacing his legs out and bending his knees slightly.

"On the count of three, then," Harvest said. "An' no flying above," he added with a frown. Jack couldn't help but pout, but got into a stance that he could start running quickly in. "One, two," Harvest paused dramatically, and Jack took the bait.

"Three!" They were both off like they had heard a bullet. Harvest somehow managed to catapult up the tree that had turned earlier, taking off his gloves with his teeth when he was on the ground, and while his hands were on the tree the tendrils blast out of his hands into the surrounding trees. It was nothing like the gradual show from before, instead it seemed like the spreading of a wild fire and it stunned Jack just enough that Harvest shot into the lead. Jack flew to the top branches of the trees and set to work jumping from tree to tree, frost spreading across the leaves like glass.

As the two got consumed in the race, they saw little of each other but their presence was everywhere. Where there wasn't already a red autumn tree there were frosted branches. Where there weren't frosted branches, there was a cluster of fire-red trees. Occasionally, they would catch a glimpse of the other. Jack once saw Harvest jumping from rooftop to rooftop after they got into the town, touching the trees in the front and back yards. Jack would have found it slightly unfair that Harvest could change multiple trees if not for the fact that it was only two or three at a time and Jack just had to run in a line using his staff like a kid would with a stick to a fence to mark his trees. The race actually took several hours to finish and they both had to take breaks, but they finally met at the top of the tallest tree on the other side of town. They stood side to side for a few long minutes, panting with the sun burning at their necks. They both looked positively exhausted, but when Jack's blue eyes met Harvest's burning brown, they both sparked and shined with the work out.

"Time to see who won," Harvest broke the silence, swallowing and standing up straight, rolling his shoulders like he had hours earlier. Jack had a feeling it was more of a nervous habit than to actually loosen the muscles there. They turned and studied the city, and Jack saw his jaw drop. Scattered through the town were Jack's frost and ice, glinting and streaking like starlight, sparkling like diamonds in the sun, but surrounding those stars was an absolute fire storm of red and yellow and orange. Harvest had beat him by a landslide, though he had only arrived up the tree a few seconds behind Jack.

"But how?" Jack exclaimed, running his sweaty hands through his hair. "You can't even fly, I saw you running the whole time! How could you have possibly gotten so many in the same amount of time as me?" He turned to Harvest, who was calming putting his gloves back on though Jack could see the teen's lip twitching like he wanted to smile.

"Well," he began slowly, and Jack could hear the smile there, too. "I've been doin' this a heck of a lot longer than you have, an' I'm used to more physical activity than you." Harvest pat Jack on the shoulder and crouched to swing town the tree. Jack could only stare down at him for a few seconds. Harvest beat him purely on experience? That was impossible! He had to have some other power, like super running or maybe Harvest could fly, but only like jumping. Maybe he had sticky fingers like a spider? Jack could see his frost trees start turning red as Harvest finished his job, so Jack flew overhead until they were back where they started.

Jack watched Harvest put on his backpack, leaning on his staff. "Why aren't the leaves falling?" Jack asked suddenly. Harvest looked up at him with a brow raised so Jack elaborated. "The leaves are supposed to fall during fall, aren't they?" Harvest chuckled deeply and nodded.

"Yeah, you're right, but they don' need to fall all in one day," He explained. Harvest leans back on the balls of his feet and looked up at the nearest trees. "Firstovall, it would be kinda pointless to make the leaves so gorgeous jus' for them to wilt an' die in the same day; like if you made it snow a foot an' it all melted by the time the sun set." Jack nodded; he understood that well. The southern states were a bother sometimes. "Also, the leaves fall over time so that some leaves are crunchy while the others are pretty soft an' pliable." Harvest saw the frown on Jack's forehead and offered that toothy smirk. "You'll see why in a few days time. 'Til then, it's pretty late an' you're pro'bly exhausted. Let's head back to the pond an' tuck in for the night."

Jack couldn't agree more. As they trekked through the brush, he felt like there was a heavy shawl being slowly dropped on his shoulders and he could feel every muscle in his legs burning. He didn't need to run or sprint as he had today, he could fly. He hadn't run like that since forever. Jack had just enough energy to ask the wind to carry him up to a big enough branch and get comfortable, the shepherd's hook of his staff in the crook of his elbow and his hood pulled low over his face. Harvest didn't seem to have even that much energy; he simply shrugged off his backpack and collapsed between the roots of the same tree. The sounds of the forest, which he hadn't heard at this time of the year before, filled their ears for a few minutes before Jack decided to break the silence for the last time that day.

"Hey, Harvest?" He mumbled just loud enough for the spirit below to hear. Jack didn't even get the grace of an answer, receiving a grunt from below. Jack continued anyway: "That was actually pretty fun," he admitted quietly. Jack heard Harvest give a breathy chuckle and shift into a more comfortable position. Jack listened to the silence of the autumn night for a while; the quiet chirping of crickets, rustles of things in the grass, and occasional hoot of an owl in the trees. Jack thought of the boy below and how much had happened in the span of half a day. He couldn't help but feel satisfied as sleep finally dragged him off into oblivion.

.:Autumn:.


	3. Bounty

**Author's Note: **I'm so excited that people are reading this. This is one of the really long chapters that will be scattered around the fic. Also, I've been reading some of those depressing Black/Nightmare Jack fics, so a bit of that may have leaked into this…

**Warnings: **OC (Non-Canon Character); Possible yaoi; Movie-verse; Possible misinformation; Pre-Movie and During; Cursing; Spoilers for the movie.

**Disclaimer: **I own absolutely nothing you recognize. Harvest Falls, however, is of my own creation, and it was freaking hard to think up an OC that wasn't already "taken" or Gary Stu. Please don't steal my work!

_"In the garden, Autumn is, indeed, the crowning glory of the year, bringing us the fruition of months of thought and care and toil. And at no season, save perhaps the Daffodil time, do we get such superb color effects as from August to November."_

~Rose G. Kingsley

.:Autumn:.

Harvest woke up before dawn the next day, and, for reasons Jack couldn't fathom, woke Jack up to drag him to the highest tree in Burgess. Normally Jack was a perfectly fine morning person, but this was not morning. This was before morning, which meant sleep time, which apparently Harvest did not know the difference between the two. Despite Jack's groaning and moaning and complaining, Harvest still felt it necessary to tug him along (literally, since Jack kept trying to sneak away to catch a few more hours of sleep) until they were finally on the highest branches that could support them. Harvest's face remained the passivity it had been before the race, but his eyes were lit, hard as it was to see at that time. Jack could only wait a few seconds before sighing.

"Seriously, why are we here? Yesterday was fun, I admit, but there is little to do other than the leaves. Really, Harvey, can we go back to-" Harvest covered Jack's mouth with a glove covered hand, the slightest twitch of his lips betraying a smirk as his other hand came up in the international sign for 'shush'. He pointed to the east, which Jack noticed was getting lighter.

"The reason we're here," Harvest started. "Is 'cause autumn has the best sunrises." Harvest took his staff from his pack and leaned on it. As far as Jack had seen, the scythe-like branch didn't have any special powers like his did. Maybe another one of Harvest's duties was to make pretty sunrises? It didn't seem very likely. All Harvest was doing was leaning on it, like Jack sometimes did with his own shepherd's crook staff. Harvest nodded at the horizon again and Jack looked, his breath catching in his throat.

Jack has never been one for art or pretty things (he leaves that to Bunny) but as the sun rose, it was almost like a battle was being fought in his head. The heavy velvet night was pushing on the sun that was just under the ground, but the sun was pushing back, turning the line between the sky and ground an interesting shade of green. The night crushed and rolled and desperately tried to crush the morning, almost like Jack had been this morning, but like Harvest had the sun pushed on doggedly; more green stretched across the sky, and as the line between morn and night stretched above them, the clouds caught fire. Once desperate, stretched, and grey, they burst into a beautiful combination of pink and purple and yellow. The normally girly colors did not seem like it at that moment; they were soldiers in the battle against the darkness of night, and they were winning. As the indigo was pushed back to the west, the sun finally made an appearance, but it was not the yellow-white Jack was used to seeing. The sun was a brilliant, bloody red, soaked from the battle against the dark, and the clouds bowed and changed colors before it. It seemed like the sun was tired, as it pushed the darkness back and the green and yellow of the sunrise faded into a baby blue, because Jack could look at and watch it without his eyes hurting.

Jack continued to watch it interact with the sky for a few minutes, until it gained it's strength and he couldn't look at it anymore. He turned away from it and looked at Harvest instead, who was watching Jack with something of a smug look. Jack scowled and stuck his tongue out at the other teen, who offered a toothy half-grin.

"Admit it," Harvest teased. "It was worth gettin' up." Jack snorted and turned away, sticking his nose in the air.

"Nothing is worth losing beauty sleep," he said in a voice that was just a little too posh. The two broke, Jack chuckling and Harvest divulging in a bout of snickers. Jack started making his way down the tree. "So, not that the sunrise wasn't pretty or anything, but is there anything else that happens during fall? I mean, even before I started going to other places for the other seasons, there wasn't much to do here." Harvest waited until they were both on solid ground before answering.

"You're right," he conceded. "There ain't much to do here yet, but that doesn't mean there's nothin' to do elsewhere." Harvest motioned Jack to follow and he did, following the redhead across the forest floor. "Today, I'm takin' you to Oklahoma." Jack scrunched up his nose and Harvest saw. "Don' worry, I've been workin' on them since August; they'll be around 50-somethin' degrees by the time we get there." Jack blinked and nodded.

"Okay, but how are you going to get there? Or were you pulling my leg yesterday and you really can fly," Jack joked, and his reward was another crooked half-grin.

"Nah, can't fly," Harvest admitted. "We're takin' the train." Jack paused in his step, not quite sure if he'd heard right.

"Taking the train?" Jack asked.

"Yup," he said. "I usually just climb up one o' the ladders an' hang out on the roof, but sometimes there's an open car. If we're lucky, we'll be gettin' one o' them."

"I could just, you know, fly along side," Jack suggested, knowing that his flying would take significantly less time than a train. "Or I could just carry you along the wind and we'd get there in, like, an hour." Jack saw Harvest grimace and shake his head.

"Nah," he declined. "If you really wanna go ahead, yuh can, but I'll be takin' the train. You can follow the tracks if you need to know where to go. Wait for me at the train station, though." Harvest kept walking after Jack stopped in his steps.

A frown marred Jack's lips as he thought. For three centuries, three hundred gut-hallowing lonely years, he'd been without a companion, or anyone to talk to. Now, he had the chance to have fun with another person, someone who at least acted the same age as he, however lacking in emotions he may be. What was one train ride? Jack ran to catch up with Harvest, whose brows raised in question at him.

"I'll ride in the train," Jack said, giving no explanation. Harvest didn't ask for one, just shrugging and giving Jack that toothy half-grin that Jack was starting to think was the only thing that the other spirit could do, besides that stupid smug smirk. "So, Harvey - you don't mind if I call you Harvey do you? - where have you been in the last couple hundred years? I haven't seen you or heard of you." Harvest shrugged and was silent until they reached a paved road that looked like a highway.

"I suppose I'm like my season," he said finally. "I'm a nomad, mostly; I travel the world, only staying for a few months, stay out o' everyone's way." Harvest unlatched his skateboard from his pack and got on it, pushing forward. Jack asked the wind to carry him alongside him. "An' no, I don' mind if you call me Harvey." Jack grinned. They talked about random things during the trip to the nearest city with a train station, which Harvest kept asking Jack what kind of food Jack liked. Most people would assume that, as an immortal, Jack didn't need food to live, but he was a living being and all living beings needed energy. So he answered as best he could; he liked roast and pasta and whatever he could get his hands on. Being invisible, he didn't really have the option of asking children to leave out cookies or other treats out for him. Harvest had looked at him like he was a deprived soul and started mumbling under his breath, but Jack didn't really pay attention to him as he'd had to dodge a semi truck at that moment.

A couple hours and bruises later, the spirits arrived at the train station, but it wasn't a passenger train like Jack had first thought. He nearly face palmed though; he'd been around during the Great Depression and the jobless had taken freight trains to get from state to state as well. They hardly had to sneak along the train looking for an open, empty car. There was one, luckily for them, and they quickly climbed into it as the whistles blew for the trains to leave the station. It would be two hours before they arrived, according to Harvest, so they spent the time as they had while on the highway. This time, though, they played some games between the conversations. Harvest actually had a deck of cards in his pack, so they played Egyptian Rat Screw until their knuckles were raw, and then played a little more. It was the first time Jack saw Harvest get overly excited since the race. He must have had a competitive streak, which Jack didn't mind.

A lot sooner than Jack expected, they were hopping off the train in the Sooner state. The trees here were already loosing leaves, and the air was indeed only slightly warmer than Jack was used to, like Harvest had said. They hadn't gotten off at a station. It seemed to Jack like they were in the middle of a forest with thin, finger-like limbs. Harvest took his staff from where it was strapped to his pack and motioned Jack to follow him. Jack did, but he couldn't help but entertain the thought that Harvest looked like a not-Grim Grim Reaper, with his scythe-looking staff and his grey hood pulled up.

"Hey, Harvey," Jack started only slightly hesitant. "Why does your staff look like a scythe?" Harvest half-grinned at Jack.

"It has to do with what we're doin' today," he said. "One of the big things to happen during autumn is the harvest." Jack was only slightly confused. He'd been around for a while, but he'd never stuck around long enough to deal with everyday life in other seasons. Harvest explained: "Through the past few months, farmers an' gardeners have toiled over their crops to have the option o' eating something over the winter. Most ov'em are self-sufficient farms, so it's my job as the spirit of fall to make sure all of their plants and animals are healthy and edible." The forest around them, which they had been trekking through while Harvest was talking, suddenly cleared, and not far away was a massive collection of buildings of every size and shape. The biggest was a 3 story house with peeling paint and the smallest was nothing more than a tin lean-to big enough for the four horses inside to rest. From what Jack could see without flying up to look down from above, the farm had several massive patches of assorted crops. He could easily see stalks of corn that were turning yellow, and, from the shards of orange in a large patch of green vines not far from them, they had pumpkins as well. Didn't Harvest say something yesterday about pumpkin seeds?

Jack was more impressed by the sheer size of the plot of land than anything, but by the look Harvest was giving him, the teen was expecting an admission like this morning. Unfortunately, Jack didn't know what to say because, frankly, he didn't see anything fun or cool or anything about a bunch of plants and some horses. "It's big," he admitted finally. "What does it have to do with your staff?" Jack asked again. Harvey sighed under his breath and started walking to the assumed pumpkin patch.

"A scythe is a tool used to harvest crops," he explained. "That's why the Grim Reaper is called so; he harvests the souls o' the dead." It was like a light bulb went off over Jack's head. He'd never wondered about the reason why Death was called the Grim Reaper. Now he knew.

"Oh, okay," Jack nodded, floating to avoid the vines they were now meandering through. Harvest was looking at each plant, apparently looking for something. "What are you looking for, anyway? And what do you do with bad crops; destroy them?" Harvest snorted and gave a glance at Jack like he was dumb for asking.

"No," he said. "I'm lookin' for unhealthy or damaged fruits, vegetables, an' animals." They came upon what looked like a pumpkin that had acid dumped on it. It was warped and had a weird color to it. He slipped off one of his leather gloves and threw a crooked, toothy smirk at Jack. "Then I do this," he leaned down and touched the rotten fruit with the tip of his finger. Spreading from the point of contact, the pumpkin seemed to miraculously heal, filling out and growing into a good-sized stereotypical pumpkin. It seemed to grow a few inches as well. When it seemed that it was finished growing, Harvest took his finger off of it and turned to Jack, raising an eyebrow. He had to admit, it was really cool that he could grow things with a touch.

"Alright," Jack said. "It's pretty cool that you have a green touch, but how does that apply to animals? Do they grow three times as big too?" Harvest actually chuckled and shook his head.

"Nah," he said. "Now, you wanted some fun, so let's go see to the animals." Harvest led the way to one of the small lean-to's, tapping the occasional pumpkin, and it turned out to be a pig pen for three pigs and too many piglets to count. He hopped over the fence and moved his fingers over them, and they actually seemed to look a bit livelier afterwards. But Jack was quickly turning bored, so he went through the motions that seemed second nature, and… "'Ey!"

Jack cackled, bending over at the waist and pointing at Harvest, who now had mud dripping down his face, which was twisted in a scowl. "You should see your face!" Jack howled, barely able to keep standing. "It's just so-" Jack fell over with a splat when a ball of mud hit him in the face. His whole face was covered in the dark brown sludge, leaving his blue eyes wide and staring at the now-cackling Harvest.

"Oh, Jack," he managed to say between his laughs. "You should see your face!" Jack's eyes narrowed. Oh, it was on.

The two had, what Jack dubbed, the Most Awesome Mud Fight of the Century. By the end of it, they were covered from head to toe in filth and had to lean on each other, they were laughing so hard. Jack was surprised at how relaxed they were with each other. Maybe it was the fact they were both seasonal spirits, and right next to each other to add to it. They were both slightly sore as well as they had wrestled in the mud with the rest of the pigs, which they decided ended in a tie when Harvest nearly sprained Jack's arm and Jack was moments away from giving Harvest's bare fingers frostbite. They wiped off as much mud as possible and continued to the other animals on the farm, Harvest checking on them and preparing them for eating while Jack teased them and Harvest mercilessly. Jack also took every opportunity to make Harvest trip or stumble into mud or seed or slop or whatever else just so happened to be there to catch his fall. Harvest didn't seem angry at all, which thrilled Jack to no end to finally have met someone with a sense of humor, and in fact Harvest would grin and chuckle and continue on his way. He had the patience of a saint, but Jack could see a glint in Harvest's eye, like he was only biding his time, and later on he would get his revenge.

At little passed noon, children and teens and adults seemed to appear out of nowhere. Harvest led them a little way away to a bunch of trees that Jack first thought was actually a part of the forest, but it was actually an orchard. There seemed to be two lines of several kinds of trees: apple trees, peach trees, orange trees, pear trees, and several others that Jack could only guess at. Harvest was strolling leisurely down the lanes, picking up fruits and, after they filled out into ripeness at his touch, tucked them into his backpack. Jack had thought that it was full the day before, but from what Jack could see, there was only a couple changes of clothes and a few knickknacks and, strangely, a knife. Though perhaps not that strange. Maybe he used it to skin small game and fruits with tough skin?

When they had finished going around all the trees (Jack causing some apples and other fruits to fall on Harvest's head occasionally) they sat down under some large trees of some kind that Jack couldn't identify and had a slightly late lunch. Jack had to give props to Harvest's powers; he'd never tasted apples so sweet or sour or oranges as juicy as those. Of course Jack got juice everywhere and he ended up sticky afterwards but he was full and that was a lot better than he had been for the last few months. Finally, after the humans were all back in the house around dinnertime, Harvest dragged Jack to the chicken coop.

"There's one last thing on our list to do today," he said. He pointed to the chickens who were totally oblivious to the trouble makers. "See that peppered chicken, there?" Jack did. "First one to grab it first wins. On the count o' three." Jack grinned. He was sore and tired but he hadn't had this much fun in a long, long, long time. What was one more contest? "One, two.."

"Three!" Jack shouted hopping over the fence, but Harvest was already jumping it himself. There were maybe two dozen chickens in the fenced off area and all of them scrambled and fled as the two pushed and shoved trying to get to the poor fowl. Jack eventually won by cheating and using the wind to dive bomb the thing, but they were both too tired to say anything.

So, tired, dirty, and suffering from a high from playing and running around all day, they hopped on a train leading back to Burgess. They napped through the ride, and by the time they got off at the train station it was dark. Jack had the wind carry him to the pond, dragging Harvest on his skateboard behind him with Harvest holding on to Jack's staff to avoid pushing himself along. When the two got to the pond, they had to strip and dump their clothes in the shallow area and Jack had to wear one of Harvest's extra pair of night clothes, which was a tight white v-neck and some baggy plaid pajama pants. Harvest was wearing similar, but a black v-neck instead of white. Jack noticed that Harvest had changed behind a tree, but Jack shrugged it off as nothing. He was too tired to think of anything but sleep. They washed the mud and yuck out of their hair and settled in to the places they had the night before; Jack on a thick branch in the tree and Harvest nested between the roots.

They were both asleep in minutes, with the moon's silver light watching over them and crickets singing to them in their sleep.

.:Autumn:.


End file.
